


Room For One More

by singingwithoutwords



Series: And Tony Makes Six [1]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kid Fic, Kid Tony Stark, Minor Character Death, Multi, Skinny!Steve, Unconventional Families
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-01
Updated: 2016-04-18
Packaged: 2018-04-29 06:49:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5119085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/singingwithoutwords/pseuds/singingwithoutwords
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve and Howard haven't seen or spoken to each other in nearly a decade now, which means Howard's death and the invitation to his funeral are both a bit of a shock.  Obviously his opinion of Steve never changed in all that time, because his will entrusts Steve with the most precious thing he left behind: his six-year-old son.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The New Addition

Steve wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing here.  He and Howard hadn’t even spoken to each other in years, not since… God, not since before Steve had hooked up with Clint and Natasha.  Howard hadn’t even been married when they’d last seen each other.  There was no Earthly reason for Steve to be sitting in a hard metal folding chair trying not to slouch, dressed in a stiffly uncomfortable black suit and tie while he waited for things to get underway.

He supposed he shouldn’t have been too surprised when he’d gotten the notice of Howard’s death.  They had been good friends a long time ago, and Howard had always had a long memory for relationships.  Being invited to the funeral had also made sense, and it made sense that Howard might have remembered Steve in his will, but he honestly couldn’t wait to be back at his hotel and done with this.

One of the lawyers finally shuffled over to the little semi-circle of chairs in which Steve sat.  He was an ancient man with wrinkles on his wrinkles, bony hands, and breath that wheezed slightly when he spoke.  He introduced himself as Mr. Terrino with a grave little bow before sinking into his own chair and snapping open his briefcase.

“Thank you all for coming,” Mr. Terrino wheezed, taking a packet of paper out of his briefcase and shuffling through it.  “Mr. Stark left instructions that affect those gathered here.  The nature of some requires that they be dealt with immediately, so forgive the unseemly haste.”

There was a murmur of polite denial from the older men and women around Steve.  He seemed to be the only one in the group under the age of forty, even though none of the other attendees were close to as old as Mr. Terrino appeared.

Mr. Terrino nodded, clearing his throat.  “Very well.  Understand that this is not a full reading of Mr. Stark’s will- unimportant things such a materials and intellectual properties will be handled tomorrow.  Today’s reading concerns only Mr. Stark’s son.”

That had been a surprise to Steve when he’d arrived for the funeral two days ago- not only had Howard married after they’d lost touch with each other, he’d also had a son.  Steve had only caught glimpses of the boy, tucked up close against Howard’s business partner Mr. Stane, who currently sat three chairs to Steve’s left, leaning forward attentively.  Tony wasn’t with him right now.

“Young Master Anthony will inherit his father’s shares of Stark Industries as well as his ownership of the company upon his reaching adulthood,” Mr. Terrino continued “Prior to that, Mr. Stark has asked that Mr. Stane have stewardship of these assets.”

Mr. Stane nodded.  Steve uncharitably thought he seemed a bit too happy about that.

“Anthony also inherits a sizeable sum of money and property, to be held in trust by his legal guardian until Anthony is of age.”

Mr. Stane nodded again.  “I’ll take very good care of the boy,” he promised.

Mr. Terrino looked up from his papers with a slight disapproving frown.  “Mr. Stark has also instructed that, should he be willing, Anthony shall be given into the custody of Steven Grant Rogers.”

* * *

 

Steve felt a lot like he’d fought an entire war in a single afternoon by the time everything was said and done.

The news that he was supposed to become Tony’s guardian had set off an uproar, led by Mr. Stane.  There’d been a great deal of shouting and arguing, all of it futile in the face of Mr. Terrino’s firm insistence that Steve and only Steve got Tony.  As if the poor kid was a classic car or an engineering patent, an object that just anyone could lay claim to.  Part of Steve was insulted and horrified on Tony’s behalf; the rest of him was taken up with determination to make sure none of the people who thought they had some kind of _claim_ to Tony just because they’d known his father were ever allowed near him again.

Tony himself sat quietly in the hotel room’s only chair, hands folded in his lap, staring at the carpet.  He was an unnervingly well-behaved kid, and hadn’t made a peep since he’d been delivered to Steve an hour ago.

Steve sighed, loosening his tie and sitting heavily on the bed.  He had no idea how the others were going to react to this.  They’d only just all gotten settled after adding Bruce to their relationship- a kid was going to upset things all over again.  None of them knew the first basic thing about childcare.  The subject of kids hadn’t come up with any of his partners aside from Thor, and then only in the general sense of Thor enjoying being used as an ambulatory jungle gym.

Well, first things first, he needed to get out of this suit.

He stood, shrugging off his jacket, and was in the act of turning toward the closet to hang it up when his phone buzzed against the nightstand, sounding deafening in the silence and making both him and Tony jump.

“Sorry-” Steve said, grabbing the phone and answering it.  “Hello?”

“Hey, Brooklyn,” Natasha’s voice greeted him.  “How are you holding up?”

“Um,” Steve said, sneaking a glance at Tony, who once more had his eyes glued to the floor.  “I’m- I’m doing okay.  I mean.  Howard wrote me into his will.”

“No surprise,” Natasha said.  “You sound nervous.”

“Are you at work?”

“Why would you say that?”

“Because if you weren’t in work mode you would have tried to get me to spill on my own.  You know how your bosses feel about you making personal calls at work.”

Natasha laughed.  “You caught me.  I can’t tell you where I am, sorry.  Is this a thing you wanna talk about now?”

“No, it’s a group thing,” Steve said, sighing.  “Any idea when you’ll be done?”

“Technically I am done- I’m on my way back now.  I’ll probably beat you home.”

“Okay.  Can you make sure everyone else is there when I get back, too?”

“Can do,” Natasha assured him.  “See you tomorrow, then.  Don’t forget to call Bruce, you know how he worries.”

“I won’t,” Steve promised.  “See you tomorrow.”

* * *

 

One restless night and a plane ride later, Steve settled in the back of a taxi with Tony and their luggage.  It was only a ten-minute drive to the house, which didn’t seem long enough to prepare for this.

Tony sat against the opposite door, staring silently out the window.  He was still behaving entirely too well for a kid his age who’d just lost both his parents.  The only time he’d really acted his age was after he’d fallen asleep, when he’d managed to worm his way up against Steve’s side and stay there all night.  He’d pulled away as soon as he woke up and quietly apologized, and Steve hadn’t gotten him to speak a word since.

Steve did not feel ready when they pulled into the driveway.  He would have thought very seriously about just running away if Natasha hadn’t been waiting for him on the porch.  As it was, he gave it a half-serious thought before sighing and paying the driver.

Natasha stayed on the porch.  If she was surprised when Tony climbed out of the car dragging his bag, she didn’t show it.

“Everyone’s here,” she said.  “Thor’s agent is not happy.”

Steve nodded, letting her take his suitcase.  “Okay.  Natasha, this is Tony.  Tony, this is my… Natasha.”  It hadn’t even occurred to him that he’d now have to explain to a six-year-old that he had four lovers.  Oh, Lord.  That was going to be even harder than explaining Tony to his lovers.

Natasha smiled, squatting so she was more on Tony’s level.  “Nice to meet you, Tony.”

Tony ducked his head, mumbling a hello, and shifted so he was half hidden behind Steve.

Natasha didn’t comment, straightening.  “Howard?”

“Yeah.  We should probably go in.”

She nodded, lifting Steve’s suitcase and leading the way inside.

The others were waiting in the living room.  Thor was sprawled across the massive couch, taking up most of it by himself.  He was shirtless, his usual state when at home.  Clint was perched on the back of the couch, his bare feet on Thor’s stomach.  He was also shirtless (because ‘solidarity’) and had command of the remote.  Bruce was sitting fully dressed on the loveseat by himself, watching Clint and Thor with a faint smile while pretending to read the paper.

Natasha set down the suitcase and cleared her throat, drawing the focus of everyone in the room.  She gestured wordlessly to Steve, stepping slightly to the side.

Clint broke out in an enormous grin, tossing the remote over his shoulder.  “You’re back!” he exclaimed, in that slightly too loud way he tended to speak when he didn’t have his hearing aids in.  “And you have a tiny small.  Why do you have a tiny small.  Hold on.”  He hopped off the couch, crossing to the sideboard where his hearing aids were kept when not in use.  He fitted them in with the usual irritated huff - they just couldn’t seem to find a pair that were actually comfortable - then turned back.  “Okay, explain.”

“Well,” Steve said, clearing his throat.  “For starters, this is Tony.  He’s going to be living here.”

Thor finally sat up, running a hand through his hair.  “Your late friend?” he asked gently.  Steve nodded.  “My condolences, young Tony.”

“Thank you,” Tony said into the fabric of Steve’s jacket.  Steve rested a hand on top of Tony’s head.  Tony stiffened, but then relaxed before Steve could pull his hand back and leaned more fully against him.

“That’s Thor,” Steve said, running his fingers through Tony’s hair, which seemed to calm him down further.  “That right there is Bruce, and this is Clint.”

“S’nice to meet you all,” Tony said politely.  “Sorry for intruding.”

“Don’t mention it, squirt,” Clint said.  “We’re happy to have you.  Still not clear on the why or the how, but we’ll make it work.”

“I was thinking for now he could stay in the office?” Steve suggested, turning to Bruce.  “If that’s okay?”

“Of course it is,” Bruce said.  “I guess a trip to the store is in order.  Thor, that means you need to put on a shirt.”

Thor groaned in wordless protest and stood, wandering off toward the bedroom.  Bruce followed, stopping long enough to give Steve a chaste kiss on the temple.

“Clint and I will put your things away,” Natasha said.  “Why don’t you get Tony settled.”  It was very much _not_ a suggestion, however she might have phrased it, and Steve nodded.  “Welcome home, sweetie.”

Then she was gone, dragging Clint and Steve’s suitcase, leaving him and Tony alone in the living room.

Steve sighed, running a hand through his hair, then looked down at Tony.  “Come on,” he said.  “I’ll show you to the office.”

* * *

 

The office was actually an office/studio/emergency crash room.  It contained Steve’s design table and computer, Bruce’s desk and computer, two dented file cabinets wedged into the closet (which no longer had a door because there was simply no room for it), and a small cot.  Bruce and Steve both kept odd hours at times, and sometimes felt it was better to sleep in the office than try and sneak into the bedroom at 3am and wake up Natasha and Clint, so the cot saw a fair amount of use.

There was currently a stack of reference books in the middle of the cot, along with an untidy spill of paper that had obviously fallen from Bruce’s desk at some point.  Steve smiled fondly to himself as he tidied them up and put them back where they belong.

“I’m sorry,” he said to Tony.  “I know it’s not what you’re used to.  It’ll only be for a little while, okay?”  They’d discussed getting someplace bigger after Thor moved in, but hadn’t come to a decision- assuming the others didn’t object to Tony staying permanently, Steve was pretty sure the decision was going to be in favor of a new house.

Tony nodded, in the middle of transferring the reference books to a neat stack on the floor one at a time.  “S’fine,” he said.  “I’m kinda tired.”

“Okay.” Tony seemed pretty well-behaved, and while Steve didn’t really want to leave him alone, it was more he thought Tony could use the company than he didn’t trust Tony to behave.  But the last thing Tony needed was a near-stranger violating his agency, and he might really be tired.  Did kids Tony’s age nap?  “I’ll be right out in the living room if you need anything, okay?”

Tony nodded again, climbing up onto the cot and flopping down on the pillow.  Steve decided not to mention Tony still had his shoes on, just unfolded the blanket from the foot of the cot and spread it over Tony, closing the office door most of the way on his way out.

Clint and Natasha were waiting for him in the living room, one on either end of the couch.  Clint had put on a shirt, and was still wearing his hearing aids.  Natasha reached out and patted the empty cushion between them, her face professionally blank.

“Have a seat, Rogers,” she said.  “We need to talk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be a oneshot.  
> /sobs


	2. The First Bump In The Road

Steve dropped onto the couch between Natasha and Clint with a sigh.  “I should’ve told you,” he agreed before Natasha could even open her mouth, because he knew what she was going to say.  And he did agree.  “It wasn’t fair to any of you to just bring a kid home with me like that.”

“It wasn’t fair to him, either,” Natasha pointed out gently.  “It wasn’t even fair to yourself.”

Steve nodded, sighing again.  Tony had been in his care for less than 24 hours, and he was already screwing up.  Wonderful.

“This is the point where we have to do the thing,” Clint said.  “The communicating thing.  Where we take turns talking and listening.  That thing.”

Natasha reached across Steve and poked Clint in the stomach.  Clint stuck his tongue out at her.

Of the five of them, Clint and Natasha were most comfortable with each other.  Small wonder, since they’d been together nearly a decade before Steve had even met them, and been friends before that.  They were very much the core of their unit, and Steve could feel himself starting to relax between them.  That had probably been Natasha’s intention all along- lure him in by making it look like a dressing-down, then spring the comfort on him when he couldn’t escape.

“Stop making me feel better,” Steve grumbled, trying to resist their attempts and failing utterly.

“Never,” they both answered at the same time, which earned them a smile.

“What’s done is done, _solnishko_ ,” Natasha continued.  “You made a mistake- being angry with yourself for it helps nothing.  Do you know what does help?”

“Telling us why you did the thing in the first place,” Clint piped up.

“Yes,” Natasha agreed, poking Clint in the stomach again.  “That.  Tell us?”

“I was scared,” Steve admitted quietly.  “I still am, really.  Tony’s just lost his whole world, poor kid, and I can’t let him down, but… I love all of you, and I don’t want to have to choose between you and Tony.”

“Steve...” Clint said, sighing.  “Buddy, we’d never do that to you, or to the kid.  I know I was a little… _weird_ about Bruce at first, but that and this are completely different things, okay?”

“Some of us lead hectic lives, yes, and fitting a child into that may be difficult,” Natasha added, “But we are up to it.  We have each other, and if Tony wants us, we’ll be there for him, too.”

Steve let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, slumping back against the couch cushions.  He felt the same giddy relief that happened when he could breathe normally after an asthma attack, the subconscious certainty that now everything was going to be fine, at least for a little while.  “I love you guys.”

“We love you, too,” Natasha said.

“Even if you are a dumbass sometimes,” Clint added, pulling Steve into a rough, reassuring hug.

Steve huffed indignantly but made no attempt to get away.  Natasha wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her cheek against the back of his head, and Steve finally felt like he was actually home.

 

* * *

 

 _“_ _It’ll only be for a little while, okay?_ _”_

Tony stared across the office at the blank computer screen on the other desk.  He wasn’t stupid just because he was little; he knew that Steve hadn’t known about him, didn’t know what to do with him.  Didn’t want him.  Not that he would- even Tony’s own actual dad hadn’t wanted him, why would a stranger?

Maybe once Steve did whatever he needed to do to get out of having to take Tony, he could… maybe Obi would want him?  Obi was nicer than Dad had ever been.  But if Obi wanted him, he probably would’ve told Steve and Steve wouldn’t have had to bring him all the way home.  Maybe even Obi couldn’t put up with him.  Maybe he was _that bad_.

He wasn’t going to cry.  He was six years old, not a baby, and he wasn’t going to cry.  He was a big boy, and he was smart, and if Steve didn’t want him, he’d just have to _make_ Steve want him, because there was no one else.

He stared hard at the computer screen and tried not to blink until his eyes burned and he could pretend that was where the tears came from when he buried his face in the musty pillow and did his best to cry quiet.

 

* * *

 

Steve was still trapped between Clint and Natasha when Bruce poked his head into the living room.

“We’re back,” he announced unnecessarily, smiling at the trio on the couch.  “Did we miss anything?”

“There was an orgy,” Clint said.  “We tried to wait for you.”

“I’m sorry to have missed it,” Bruce replied, already used to Clint’s sense of humor.  “We may have gone slightly overboard, but I did manage to talk Thor out of a race car bed.”

“Only because we lack a place to keep it,” Thor added, stepping around Bruce and depositing what looked like a mountain of plastic bags on the coffee table.  “Where is young Tony?”

“The office,” Steve said.  “He said he was tired.  Did you buy out the whole store _except_ the beds?”

“Children have specific dietary needs that won’t be met by day-old pizza and Sunny-D,” Bruce pointed out.  “And with only one suitcase, he can’t have much in the way of toiletries or clothing.  We also got some sheets and new blankets for the cot.  And Thor insisted on a copy of every movie the lady in the electronics section recommended.”

“Our movie collection is lacking in things suitable for small children,” Thor protested, starting to pull DVD cases out of bags and stack them in a precarious tower on the corner of the coffee table.

“And how much did all this cost?” Natasha asked, standing to start rooting through bags herself.

“We _may_ have blown both our personal budgets for the month,” Bruce admitted with a sheepish smile.

“I’ll pay you back,” Steve offered, biting his lip.

“No need,” Bruce said.  “Taking care of a child is more important than fancy tea.  And if you’re planning on keeping him, we’ll all have to cut back, anyway.  The entire household budget needs to be rearranged.  Might as well start now.”

“Just like that?  You’re not even gonna yell at me?”

“Why would we yell at you?” Thor asked, sincerely confused because he was in actuality a gigantic puppy who didn’t know how to be angry.

“I just kinda dropped a kid in the middle of our lives without asking anyone or even giving you a heads-up,” Steve pointed out.

“Some warning would have been nice, yes,” Bruce said.  “We could have gotten things ready for him.  And I know we’ve never really discussed children, and I didn’t feel it was something we were heading for, but it would be unspeakably cruel of us to turn him away.”

Steve sighed, slumping back against Clint’s shoulder.

“Don’t mind him,” Clint said.  “He’s just mad because nobody’s gonna chew him out for this like he thinks he deserves.  You know our martyr.”

“I will shove your bow right up your ass, Clint,” Steve threatened, resolutely not smiling no matter how much he wanted to.

“What was that, Steve?  You know you’re being an idiot?  Awesome, I always knew you were smarter than you-” Clint cut off with a sound that was half laugh half indignant grunt as Steve shoved his very boney elbow into his gut.

“You deserved that,” Natasha said, holding up a set of pajamas with tiny robots all over them.  “These are cute.”

“There’s also a pre-fab chest of drawers still in the car,” Bruce said.  “It should fit under the cot.  That’s kind of the best we can do for now.”

“I’ll retrieve it,” Thor offered brightly, standing and almost knocking over his DVD tower.

“Quietly,” Bruce reminded him.  Thor nodded, and made a great show of sneaking back down the hall toward the front door.

“Speaking of the best we can do,” Natasha said, setting down the robot pajamas and extracting a small stack of books from the slowly shrinking mess on the coffee table, “I can’t be the only one to realize we can’t keep a child long-term in this house.”

“You aren’t,” Bruce agreed, sighing.  “We can barely manage with the five of us.”

“And since we don’t actually own this place, expanding isn’t an option,” Clint said.  “I mean, we’ve sort of tested the waters with the idea since Thor decided to stay, but it might be time for actual communication with regards to the living situation.”

“That’s a very long-winded way to say ‘we need to talk about moving’,” Bruce said, but he was still smiling.

“You’re a physics professor, you’re not allowed to call other people long-winded.”

“Keep telling yourself that, Clint.”

“Nat, Bruce is picking on me!”

“What am I, your mother?”

“I certainly _hope_ not, considering what I’ve been doing with you.”

“Guys,” Steve said.  He knew Clint and Natasha both dealt with stress by joking, but this was a kid’s future here.  There was a time and a place and all that.

“Sorry,” Clint said, pulling Steve back into another hug.  “Not the time.  Got it.”

“We have discussed the possibility of moving,” Natasha said, all trace of levity gone in an instant.  “This is just… extra incentive.”

“We have some savings,” Bruce added.  “It should be enough for at least a deposit on a new place.  And I can take on an extra course next semester.”

“Are you sure?”  Steve asked.  “You said that would-”

“-be bad for my stress levels, yes,” Bruce said.  “But we’ll need the extra income.”

“I can take on extra commissions, too,” Steve offered.  He’d been able to ease up on the amount of work he did thanks to his partners, but he could probably manage more without it affecting his health too much.

“And I can start giving lessons again,” Clint said, grinning.  “See?  We can do this.  Things might be tight for a while, but nothing we can’t handle.”

Steve found himself smiling back, defenseless against Clint’s infectious optimism.  He opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted by the sound of a throat clearing in the doorway.  Thor stood there, looking apologetic, with a large white box balanced on one shoulder and his other hand on Tony’s shoulder.

Tony stood nervously at Thor’s side, staring down at the carpet and biting his lip, hands twisting the hem of his shirt.

“It would appear we have a young spy in training,” Thor remarked.  “I almost did not see him at all.”

“M’sorry,” Tony mumbled, not looking up from the carpet.  He sounded on the verge of tears.  “I won’t do it again.  I’m sorry.”

“We don’t mind, _utenok_ ,” Natasha said gently, gesturing sharply behind her back at Steve.  “Were you having trouble sleeping?”

Steve managed to get to his feet without knocking anything over and stepped past Natasha while Tony shook his head mutely, worrying at his shirt hem even more.

“Tony?”  He asked, stopping a foot or so away from Tony, not wanting to crowd him or make him feel trapped.  “What’s wrong?”

“I have money,” Tony blurted, finally tearing his eyes away from the floor.  “Lots of it, I know I do, Dad had tons of money and he must’ve left me some, and you can have all of it, I don’t even need a little bit.”  He stared up at Steve, wide-eyed, and whatever he thought he was seeing seemed to make him even more panicky.  “A-and I can make stuff!  I’m good at that, I made stuff for Dad all the time- I’ll make you whatever you want!  I promise I’ll be useful, just please please don’t send me back!”

Oh.   _Oh._

Steve leaned down and scooped Tony up.  Even as wimpy as Steve was, Tony barely weighed anything, and he was able to pick him up pretty easily and hug him close.  “Nobody is sending you anywhere, sweetheart,” he said.  “I promise you.”

“I can be useful,” Tony insisted into the curve of Steve’s neck, clinging to his shirt.  “I _can_.”

The poor kid was actually shaking.  Steve cast a glance at his partners, silently asking for some support here.

“We’re definitely not sending you back,” Bruce agreed.  “We don’t mind having you here at all.”

“If anyone tries to take you away from us, they’ll have to go through Nat,” Clint added.  “And me.”  Natasha made a short, unmistakable noise of agreement.

Thor, never one for words when actions suited just as well, simply set the box down and enfolded Steve and Tony both in one of his amazing hugs.

Tony inhaled sharply, then went completely limp against Steve’s chest so suddenly that, if not for Thor’s arms around them, Steve might have dropped him.  He panicked for a second before finally figuring out that it was nothing more than relief.  And maybe a bit of exhaustion; by the time Thor shuffled them over to the couch so Steve could sit down, Tony had managed to fall asleep.

Steve settled back on the couch, cradling Tony close, and looked around the room.  The expressions he saw weren’t identical by any means, but they all meant the same thing.

Tony was staying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> solnishko = sunshine  
> utenok = duckling


End file.
